More Than a Gift
by Angel of Mercy '96
Summary: Some presents are more than what meets the eye. A small Christmas oneshot.


I have to say a few things before you read. This fic takes place about one to two years into the Golden Age. The Pevensies are book-verse age (I hope everyone knows their book-verse age, if not I feel pity for you). Also, when you read you might think there is a bit of inaccuracy about the Christmas the centaur speaks about. Centaurs in Narnia live around 200 years so you do the math (I know I sound like a nut right now).

Purpose for this fic? Where are all the Christmas fics this year? I was angry last night because there was nothing I saw that dawned on me to be about Christmas. So I wrote one myself.

I hope you enjoy!

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><p>"You should have never came with me Ed. I can take care of myself." Peter slowly grabbed his fallen brother into his arms. He walked deeper into the cave trying to keep Edmund out of the wind.<p>

"When have I heard that one before?" asked Edmund in a sarcastic tone. His voice was rough and weak.

"Save it Edmund. I was just visiting our Cousins wishing them a Happy Christmas. There was no danger," said Peter sternly.

"Except the blizzard," smirked Edmund.

"Seems to be more of a hazard for you," fired back Peter.

Edmund sighed and closed his eyes. The air he breathed in with his mouth had a sour fever taste to it. The cave was dark and he did not bother anymore to try to find his brother's face in the pitch blackness. All he could sense was his brother's strong arms wrapped tightly around him and the steady beat of his footsteps. Time was about as steady as the steps Peter took. Soon however, Edmund was lowered to the ground carefully.

Peter took a seat next to his brother and waited. They were at least out of the cold draft. Edmund needed to stay warm for his body was stricken by a fever he came down with. He started to regret not taking the Beaver's offer of staying in their dam until the storm blew over since Peter thought they could beat it. Peter wanted to bring Edmund home as soon as possible when began falling asleep and he started to have a temperature. Unfortunately, they were caught in the worst of very storm. This abandoned cave was the only refuge Peter, Edmund, and the small party of guards for miles around.

The guards' footsteps echoed in the cave. Peter hoped they were able to find wood to make a fire. The horses they left at the entrance of the cave carried all of Peter's and Edmund's supplies. Peter also wished they were able to bring them in further themselves.

Soon the bright light of a torch shined as the guards drew even nearer. Finally, the two fauns and the centaur came into view. They stopped at a flat piece of the cave floor dropping the wood. One of the fauns began to gather the snowy sticks, logs, and kindle into a neat pile to be ignited.

"You think you can make it couple of steps Edmund? You need to be closer to the fire." Peter kneeled putting an arm around Edmund lifting him to stand. Edmund sluggishly walked those very few steps over with almost too much effort for his sick body could handle. Peter soon lowered him once again onto the ground.

"The horses are just around the turn your majesty," implied a guard during the time all four of them were trying to light the now wet wood.

Peter stood quickly to the horses. He had to feel his way around to the bundles on the back of the saddles. He untied them and came back with one of the blankets already sprawled in his arms. He warped it around Edmund snuggly and began to help the guards.

It took to what Edmund thought was an hour to light the fire. It burned weakly but it was enough to begin to heat the cold air surrounding the small group. They were all silent lost in thought. One would once in a while look up and the two Kings who were next to each other trying to keep warm. The sound of coughs soon echoed around the cave. Peter looked over at his brother in concern. He was getting worse: his face was flushed and pale with sweat beads forming. There were bags around his eyes. Occasionally, he would go into a spasm of shivers; however Peter held him tightly until they faded.

The centaur, middle aged and very wise, reminisced on an old memory similar to this very night. He began to speak of it to his fellow friends. "I remember one Christmas Eve before the Witch when I was young my sister was very sick. The worse night was that very night and my mother feared she wouldn't make it. I stayed next to her praying to Aslan that she would get well again. Then, that very night I saw Father Christmas. I pleaded to him if he could do anything for my sister. He took out of his sack of presents a golden blanket and placed it on her. He soon carried onward to the other homes not even a moment later. At the time I was not pleased with the gift he gave my sister. However that morning—it was a miracle!"

The fauns nod in response. The High King watched as his brother fell into a restless sleep. He wiped away the sweat on his brother's face tenderly as he asked. "Could the blanket heal another?"

"It only healed my sister once. Maybe it was the blessing he sent her which healed her or the blessing the blanket we will never knew. I am just fortunate to see her married to a fine centaur."

"Oreius?" asked a faun.

"Why yes. However, I do pray for King Edmund on this night before Christmas. Has he eaten?"

"We do not have much and he refused saying he might be very sick to his stomach if he did eat something," answered Peter.

"It would be best to keep him about as comfortable as possible until his fever resides," informed the centaur.

"I hope it will. I have never seen him like this before," admitted Peter holding his sick brother tighter.

"We should all rest. The storm shall be passed us in the morning. We will be late to the celebrations, but I do not think many will mind," the centaur concluded. Everyone nodded in response as the fauns slowly lied down. Conversely, Peter stayed in his spot wanting to have a vigil for his brother.

"_Aslan, Edmund needs You. I pray for his health. I will trade all my Christmases just to see him live his. It is the only request I make to You this night before Christmas. Please Aslan." _The prayer was silent although Peter knew someone was listening. Edmund squirmed slightly in his brother's hold before settling once more. Peter laid his forehead against Edmund's shoulder and continued to pray.

In the wee hours of morning Peter heard the stirring of the horses. The fire was nearly just embers and everyone was asleep. He heard the footsteps approach at a good pace. Peter rubbed his eyes then blinked them into a bit of focus. It was Father Christmas.

"Peter, it is a quite a surprise to see you here," he said.

"The storm kept us in here. We could not see though the snow it was blowing so much," explained Peter.

"The storm passed a few hours ago, but I would stay in here where it is warm until morning. It is quite cold."

"Staying here would be the best remedy for Edmund as well," added Peter shifting Edmund carefully.

"I see that he is very sick," Father Christmas addressed.

"It was sudden and I fear the worse."

"I believe there would be someone in need of this." He reached into his sack of presents and retrieved a sliver threaded blanket with carefully embroidered designs etched into it. He wrapped Edmund in it like a cocoon with Peter's help. Peter smiled in appreciation.

"You may want your gift as well Peter." Father Christmas dug into the bag again.

Peter was quick to decline. "No thank you Father Christmas. All I want is to see my brother become well again."

"This is why I give gifts Peter. What you have said means you deserve something in return. I will give you a gift I know will be in good use. Rest Peter all will be well in the morning."

Peter nodded sleepily. "Thank you, and Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas to you, Peter."

Peter fell asleep instantly soon after. It was a deep and peaceful sleep though he was sleeping on rocks. The cave began to become warmer again making Peter assume Father Christmas added more wood to the fire. The High King did not know how long he did sleep, however it was morning when Peter woke to the dull sunrays that traveled far into the cave. Peter realized Edmund had disappeared.

"Finally you wake sleepyhead. We need to hurry so we do not arrive too late to the celebration." Edmund came around the corner. He was light on his feet and looked dramatically better.

"Right." Peter looked around to see everyone gathering their belongings. The centaur smiled as Peter gazed at him in surprise.

"He was the first one to wake your majesty," chuckled the centaur. He was placing a telescope into a satchel.

"We both receive boots and coats. Somehow I was the only one who got this blanket though. It was quite warm," Edmund observed as he folded the sliver blanket neatly before he could tie it into his bundle.

Peter laughed in relief? Amusement? It did not matter. What did was Peter needed to do much explaining on the ride home.

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><p>Done. There's not much to say after this little oneshot. The only thing I hope for is that everyone enjoyed reading this. I did enjoy writing this. It has been the only oneshot I have actully completed in about three hours to this date. Not three hours in one sitting but I think everyone gets what I am saying.<p>

Thanks for reading and have a Merry Christmas!


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